"Yeah, but he barely looks a day over ninety-five." Having a conversation about the complexities of his and Verso's weird - thing - together is honestly the last thing on the planet he's interested in doing. "If you actually love me, you'll pretend you didn't see anything."
Wow, at first she was only interested inasmuch as it meant she could gently bully Gustave. Now she's actually curious. "Why?" she asks, voice lilting. "Is it a secret thing?"
"No. I don't know." A good role model wouldn't be sneaking off to kiss boys in the dark, Maelle! He groans, pressing his hand to his face. "Sophie would never stop teasing me if she knew. She'd say she ruined me for other women."
Maelle doesn't have extensive experience with relationships—she'd kissed a boy once, but the next day, she'd caught him kissing another girl—but even she knows 'I don't know' doesn't bode well. She cringes a little at that, open and obvious with it, before laughing at the next comment. "Well, didn't she?"
She'd just assumed that was the reason Gustave never tried anything on with Sciel or Lune, as beautiful and wonderful as they both are. Too much Sophie on the mind, on the heart.
Gustave hums quietly at that question, glancing in the direction Verso had disappeared off in. "Suppose you're right," he says. There's no denying that it's easier knowing that Sophie is nothing but a name to Verso; there aren't any shared memories to mutually stumble over like emotional landmines.
That isn't a conversation he can have with Maelle.
"It's not a secret because it's not a thing," he says a moment later, belatedly expanding on his earlier answer. "We're going to focus on more important things until the mission is over. Let's head back to camp."
"Okay, okay," Maelle says, hands up in a gesture of surrender. She's just trying to get the tea, jeez. No one tells her anything around here!!! She does take a step back toward camp, but then she turns back— "So you're saying he's not your secret boyfriend."
"I'm saying he's not my secret boyfriend," Gustave confirms, joining her to pointedly walk back to the others. He hesitates, adding: "But I do hope he'll stick around for a while with us when we've washed our hands of the Paintres."
"That's too bad. A secret boyfriend would be much more exciting than whatever weird, sad thing you have going on," she says chipperly. But! She'll let it go, because it seems to be a source of bad-embarrassment and not fun-embarrassment. Maelle links her arm in Gustave's as they walk back, saying, "He'll have to stick around. I've already talked to Esquie, and we're throwing a party after."
Gustave can't really bring himself to disagree with that. He, too, wishes that any of them had the opportunity for something so mundane and normal.
But all of his attention is back on Maelle the moment her arm is in his, and he grins sidelong at her. "Oh, a party, huh? What do you think - three tables or four?"
"Four," is her response. Does she really believe they're going to make it through this, or is she just putting on a brave face? Hard to say. Party-planning is a good distraction either way. "Esquie takes up at least three seats by himself..." She continues yapping about party logistics as they make their way back to camp proper, clearly happy to have a conversation with Gustave where they're both looking forward to the future.
Monoco finds himself mostly unconcerned with the details of what Verso gets up to when he spends time with the other humans, but he's fully aware neither he nor Verso are immune to grief. He's aware that his human companion had been making an effort to keep an emotional barrier up between himself and this latest group of Expeditioners. He's also had front row seats to nearly incidental ways they'd begun to breach it.
"You can do better," he informs Verso matter of factly when Gustave and Maelle return to camp, arm in arm.
Verso watches Gustave and Maelle, arm-in-arm, Maelle chatting animatedly to Gustave about something, and feels another ache of jealousy in his chest. He hadn't wanted to be confronted about Gustave, necessarily, but some part of him wishes he were the one she would have wanted to talk to about it instead.
It's pointless envy. Soon enough there won't be a Gustave or a Verso for her to walk arm-in-arm with. He lets the sight distract him for a moment regardless, before turning to Monoco: "Jealous?" Teasing, of course. Monoco will always be his #1 shawty.
It's not Gustave's fault that Verso had immediately started making excuses to flee!! The most reasonable parts of Gustave know that he should just leave Verso alone, that this thing he's forcing between them isn't good for either of them. He hasn't known Verso long, and it's unfair to make him a victim of Gustave's own baggage - but he likes him. In the end, he hadn't chased Sophie, and his life had been poorer for it.
Monoco knows none of this, of course, and just snorts derisively. "Please. I could take him in a fight any day of the week."
Monoco swats Verso's hand away like he's shooing a fly. "I'll go thrash him right now if it'll cheer you up," he states, as if he has ever once needed a reason to get into a fight.
"It's a talent." Verso doesn't immediately look away, which is an improvement. He smiles faintly back, not nearly as hopeful, but— he's holding Gustave's gaze, which should really count for something. He cants his head toward Maelle, then raises his eyebrow questioningly (and a little smugly, since he so successfully managed to get out of that conversation).
Gustave's little shrug is enough to get Maelle's attention; she glances at him, then tracks his gaze quickly enough back to Verso. "Hey," she calls over, "I said you'd be his date to the victory party. Don't let us down."
She looks a little smug herself when her interjection makes Gustave look like he wants to die. Someday Gustave will be baffled that he never saw the resemblance.
Victory party. Verso's smile falters as he imagines Maelle planning a party she'll never have. It's fine. She can throw one in the real world, with real family and real friends. The smile makes its way firmly back into his face.
"I'm afraid you'll have to fight Monoco for that privilege," he calls back.
Gustave thinks he see that smile falter, his throat a little tight, but he doesn't point it out. Instead, he just gently touches Maelle's back. "Any time," he replies just loud enough to be heard, but he gently redirects her back to her conversation with Esquie then.
That's the last Verso talks to Gustave that night; he retires to his bedroll not long after, although he tosses and turns for a long while after, as expected. It's not only about Gustave, although he features in some of Verso's worries as both a main character and background player; it's about everything. Dread, anticipation. Just a few more days to make it through.
The next day, as they make their way across the water to Sirene, he remains as aggressively normal as the days prior, although there's anxiety in the way he wrings his hands as they step back onto land.
"Does that aim of yours still feel off?" he asks Gustave, eyeing his metal arm.
No, not really. There's a nonzero chance he's going to have to bury the team tonight. What'll be left of them, anyway. That's probably not the right thing to say to motivate Gustave, so he shrugs noncommittally.
"Just looking forward to the sketch you make of this one."
Maybe it's cowardly, but it's easier to face his own potential doom with the knowledge that Verso will protect Maelle when he's gone. "It's alright. You can take it easy. I'll watch your back this time."
He's not trying to flirt - he just wishes he could do something to ease the anxiety in his hands.
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She'd just assumed that was the reason Gustave never tried anything on with Sciel or Lune, as beautiful and wonderful as they both are. Too much Sophie on the mind, on the heart.
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That isn't a conversation he can have with Maelle.
"It's not a secret because it's not a thing," he says a moment later, belatedly expanding on his earlier answer. "We're going to focus on more important things until the mission is over. Let's head back to camp."
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But all of his attention is back on Maelle the moment her arm is in his, and he grins sidelong at her. "Oh, a party, huh? What do you think - three tables or four?"
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"You can do better," he informs Verso matter of factly when Gustave and Maelle return to camp, arm in arm.
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It's pointless envy. Soon enough there won't be a Gustave or a Verso for her to walk arm-in-arm with. He lets the sight distract him for a moment regardless, before turning to Monoco: "Jealous?" Teasing, of course. Monoco will always be his #1 shawty.
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Monoco knows none of this, of course, and just snorts derisively. "Please. I could take him in a fight any day of the week."
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It's a real offer, though.
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"And lose my opportunity to brood handsomely? Never."
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Gustave glances back at Verso, and mostly just smiles a little hopefully (and a lot apologetically.)
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She looks a little smug herself when her interjection makes Gustave look like he wants to die. Someday Gustave will be baffled that he never saw the resemblance.
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"I'm afraid you'll have to fight Monoco for that privilege," he calls back.
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The next day, as they make their way across the water to Sirene, he remains as aggressively normal as the days prior, although there's anxiety in the way he wrings his hands as they step back onto land.
"Does that aim of yours still feel off?" he asks Gustave, eyeing his metal arm.
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"No," he answers, flexing his metal arm as if to reassure him. "All good here. Are you alright?"
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"Just looking forward to the sketch you make of this one."
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He's not trying to flirt - he just wishes he could do something to ease the anxiety in his hands.
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